Life Is Change
by The Sun Also Rises
Summary: I cannot imagine that you wish to spend your life with a woman five times your age and a child that you do not want." Eragon and Arya embark on a post-war life together.Sometimes love's greatest tests come during peace.I own zip!I'm Pippa from shurtugal
1. A Life Unplanned For

Darkness permeated the vast forest of Du Weldenvarden, blanketing even the most pure and glowing of places with a thick blanket of inky black. It had been dark for some time now and most of Ellesmera's inhabitants had retired to their chambers. Yet, amidst the dark homes and pavilions, one lone candle burned softly and steadily in a small compound off of Tialdari Hall. Despite the fact that the candle was nearly burnt down to the nub, still it burned, enough to illuminate two anxious faces, one man and one woman.

"I do not want you to be burdened with this," the female spoke softly, cupping tenderly the face of the male with a cool, gentle hand.

"And I am not!" the man countered, his voice taking on an almost pleading tone. "Arya, listen to me. I want to be here for you, not halfway across Alagaesia! I couldn't bear to be apart from you! Especially not at such a time as this! If I were to leave you now-"

"Peace, Eragon," Arya murmured. "Very well, you shall have your way. But I shall await the day when you change your mind. I know you will. You are young and unprepared for this. I understand."

Eragon shook his head. "You cannot understand! My wish is to be here, in Ellesmera, with you, and with my child."

Arya rolled her eyes. "You wish that now, but what will take your fancy in a few months, or years? Eragon, I cannot imagine that you should wish to spend your days with a woman five times your age and with a child that you do not want."

"I have never said that!" Eragon hissed.

Arya sighed. "No, you have not, but it is true all the same."

"I want this child!" Eragon replied in the ancient language.

"Why?" Arya countered.

A silence ensued.

Finally Arya said softly, "There, you see. You cannot tell me. But I shall tell you. You want this child because you seek another way to bind us together. You know how important children are in my culture. You know that if we have a child, we are more bound together than ever before. Is that not true?"

Eragon turned away from her and looked out the window into the starless sky. "Arya, I love you. Surely you must know that by now. How can you not?"

Arya pressed her lips together in a fine line and seemed to be trying to gather up a fresh resolve to combat this new tactic. "I know, Eragon. And you must know that I love you. But I was right in my first judgments. We are too far apart in age. Perhaps later on we will be more suited for each other, but now… now you are still young."

"I'm twenty!" Eragon cried out. "My age didn't bother you a few months ago!"

"Eragon, a war had just ended! Neither of us was in our right minds. If we had taken time to analyze the situation…"

"Analyze!" Eragon again cried out. "How can you analyze a feeling? Especially one so enigmatic as love?"

Arya looked deep into his eyes and spoke firmly, "Eragon, deep in your heart, you know that our actions were wrong. I blame myself for letting our feelings get out of hand, for I am the elder. We were too impulsive. In the rush of things, amidst being grateful that we were even alive, we were swept up into something improper. I am sorry."

Eragon stood. "Oh this is fine, Arya, just fine! You carry my child and now you want me to just travel on back to Vroengard and pretend that none of this ever happened? What are we going to tell the child as he or she gets older? That his father is dead, or has abandoned him?"

"Or her," Arya corrected.

"Don't be smart!" Eragon snapped back. "Have you any answers?"

"Eragon, I have none as of now. But what I do know is this: You are twenty years old. Just twenty. You are only young once. Go out, enjoy life, friends, celebrations, other women. And then, perhaps if, after many years, you still feel that you wish to live with me in Ellesmera, then return. That is all I ask of you. I would never feel right if I had not rectified my mistake of forcing this responsibility on you before your time." Arya closed her eyes briefly and then looked directly at Eragon.

"So this is what it's all about then?" Eragon questioned angrily. "Is this whole scheme just a way to ease your conscience?"

A look of deep hurt crossed Arya's face making Eragon feel guilty for just a moment. He should not give her grief, especially because of her condition. But then the feeling passed as he remembered what Arya wanted of him.

"Eragon!" Arya responded. "I want what is best for you, as I always have. You are being unfair. I merely want you to be happy! Is that too much to ask?" She stroked his cheek with her hand again in an attempt to pacify him.

"But Arya," Eragon murmured softly, "I am happy here, with you. I want to love you in the way that you deserve to be loved. I understand that I am young and sometimes a bit foolish, but give me some time. I know that I can be the man that you want."

A small tear formed in Arya's eye, but she did not let it fall and instead raised her head higher. "I do not want you to try to be someone that only time and experience will cause you to become."

Eragon seemed to be feeling slightly desperate again. "I want to take care of you and our child, Arya. I don't want you to have to lift a finger. I promise that I will be there for you through everything. And besides, you forget that I have been through much already. A child and an elf princess shouldn't be that much trouble, now should they?"

Arya smiled softly. "Is this what you really want, Eragon? Know that I am fully prepared to release you from our ties if you so desire it."

Eragon shook his head. "I couldn't leave you."

"You have duties!" Arya protested solemnly. "The new Riders must be trained."

"They will be trained," Eragon assured her. "I can bring them here. Oromis would not mind staying here. And your mother would thoroughly enjoy having children here."

Arya looked softly at Eragon, trying to search his eyes and thereby his heart. Upon seeing that same flame of love that had burned within him so strongly all those months ago, she murmured defeatedly, "You foolish boy, you have trapped me into keeping you here. You should feel ashamed for making me give up a principle I feel strongly for."

Eragon smiled and, as he took her into his arms, whispered, "Are you glad that I am staying?"

Arya looked at him pensively. "Perhaps."

And with that, Eragon extinguished the candle and helped Arya into bed (not that she needed the help, of course). Sighing contentedly, Eragon settled himself down on the bed and threw a protective arm over Arya. Before falling into his dreams, he gently leaned over and kissed Arya's stomach, where his child grew stronger day by day.


	2. Are You Mocking Me?

Birds trilled out their melodious bits of song as the ancient city of Ellesmera arose to greet the new day. After having been awoken by a particularly unrelenting mockingbird some time ago, Eragon sat lazily in bed with his arm draped casually over Arya. As he looked down at Arya's tranquil face, he smiled softly.

She appeared so peaceful, so at ease. During the night, her ebony hair had formed delicate curls around her cheeks, framing her serene face. For a moment, Eragon was tempted to reach out and stroke her face. But then he remembered that she was in need of sleep. Sighing contentedly, he wrapped his arms more tightly around her and listened to the gentle steady beat of her heart. He remained so until Arya began to stir. Then he quickly rose and made his way to the windows facing the bed where he threw open the draperies in order to let the morning light in.

He tiptoed back to bed and slid in next to Arya. "Good morning," he whispered in her ear.

Arya met his deep brown eyes with her emerald ones and murmured sleepily. "You're still here, I suppose?"

"So rude you are in the morning, princess," Eragon teased. "Can't you be the least bit nice?"

"No," Arya said tiredly. "I cannot."

"What's wrong?" Eragon queried, concern apparent in his eyes.

Arya rose slowly and pulled on her robe before answering, "My sleep was troubled with ill dreams."

Eragon frowned and murmured, "What of?"

"Gilead," was Arya's short reply before plodding off to the wash closet.

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Arya sighed as the water flowed down upon her, leaving little pearl-like droplets on her skin in its wake. Resilient as she had made herself to the memories of Gilead and her imprisonment there, Arya was still troubled by the night's dreams. They had been so real, one right after the other, each bringing back some new terror; each summoning forth some old, evil fear.

But unlike normal dreams, these dreams did not disappear with the coming of dawn. Instead they were fresh and haunting in her mind, forcing her to relive the pain that she had so quickly brushed aside. Images of the dreams swam before her. Running through Durza's dank prison looking for a means of escape. Being caught and thrown to the ground. Beaten. Torture again. Each whip larger and more painful than the one before it. Looking up at the sky wishing for death. Trying to catch a bit of the gutter water on her tongue as it fell through the barred window of her basement cell.

Arya involuntarily cringed. The memories were too much. She sank to the bath's floor in despair. Hot tears filled her eyes, but she forced them to remain trapped in her eyelids, a symbol of the grief that she had bottled up for so long.

She dimly heard Eragon calling her name, but could not find it within herself to answer. Something had changed in her in the past few weeks. Somewhere along the way of discovering that she was with child and trying to convince Eragon to leave, something had broken inside of her. The mask that she had held up for so long had shattered. The fears that she had forced herself to keep at bay were back in full force. Not only did memories of Durza haunt her now.

She thought of her father, dead and so cold, upon a stone slab, his once blue eyes so cold and unseeing. His death had devastated her. But she had never bothered to scream and cry. Instead, she had allowed herself to be caught up in the consuming desire to avenge him. And when that task ended by Eragon destroying Galbatorix, nothing existed for her to work to. She felt alone, and more than that, afraid.

"Arya, what are you doing?" Ergon cried.

Startled from her thoughts, Arya jumped. "Eragon?"

She felt more than saw Eragon lifting her out of the water and wrapping her in her robe. He carried her to the bed and went back to turn off the water. When he returned, he looked at her with concern in his eyes. "What were you doing?"

"Bathing," she replied, not understanding why he had acted so rashly.

"That water was steaming! I'm surprised it didn't scald you. What were you thinking?" Eragon sat down beside her and placed his arms gently around her.

Arya looked at him and smiled weekly. "I must have been daydreaming. I am sorry I worried you."

Eragon exhaled loudly. "That must have been quite a daydream!"

When Arya declined to answer, he caught her eye and frowned. "Are you all right?"

Arya nodded, not trusting herself to be able to speak in the ancient language.

"Are your dreams still troubling you?" he asked gently.

Arya sighed. "Dreams are always troubling. I trust you know that, Eragon."

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Eragon asked with concern in his voice. "I want to help you, Arya. You know that."

Arya nodded. "I know. But we each have our own set of troubles that we must work through alone. Now," she said with a fresh resolve, "we are to meet my mother in an hour for breakfast. It will not do to be late. You should dress."

Eragon eyed her wet robe and smiled. "So should you."

Arya frowned and then caught sight of herself. "Yes," she murmured, "perhaps I should."

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"Ah! Arya, Eragon, I'm glad you're here," Queen Islanzadi breezed as the couple walked through the door to her private dinner hall. "I wasn't expecting you for another fifteen minutes, but it's just as well. I have something that I want to discuss with you."

She's cheerful this morning, Eragon remarked mentally to Arya.

Arya acknowledged his statement before adding one of her own. Don't be fooled. I'm sure she has some grand scheme afoot.

Eragon smiled and proffered a seat for Arya by the Queen before finding his own across the small, round table.

"How are you feeling, daughter?" Islanzadi queried.

"Fine," Arya said, her face covered with what Eragon could tell was a forced smile.

Islanzadi seemed unconvinced, but asked no further. Instead, she beckoned to the servants to bring in the main course and then turned to Eragon and Arya.

"I hope you are hungry."

They both nodded.

"Good. Now, before we eat, I thought that perhaps we should lay down a few things concerning your child."

"Lay down a few things?" Arya said, reluctance evident in her voice.

"Yes," Islanzadi answered. "Things such as how he or she shall be raised. A child of the throne must be given the utmost in opportunity. This child would need to be shown how to run a kingdom, practice magic, or-"

"Mother," Arya interrupted. "Do you not think that it is just a little too early to be thinking of such things? I am barely four months pregnant."

"Planning ahead is always a good thing, a safe thing," Islanzadi said, looking straight at her daughter. "Eragon, what say you?"

Having not expected to have his opinion asked for, Eragon froze. "If he said what he really thought, namely that Islanzadi was being controlling, then he would offend the Queen. But if he tried to place himself in the Queen's favor, then he would be turning his back on Arya. He shifted uncomfortably as he felt both women's eyes boring into him. Finally, he decided that the middle ground was safest.

"It is not unwise to plan," he said, voice slightly hoarse. "Yet sometimes fate throws strange things our way. We cannot predict the future and, therefore, it would be difficult to lay out any kind of plan. Our child might be a Rider. Then he or she could not possibly rule Ellesmera."

"True," Islanzadi said, seemingly considering Eragon's opinion. Arya looked somewhat pleased with his response.

"Well," Islanzadi said decidedly, "perhaps we may begin preparing at a later date."

Her proposal was unanimously agreed to.

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"You surprised me back there, Eragon," Arya murmured as the pair sat back in their home sipping tea by the window.

Eragon shrugged. "I didn't want to offend anyone. Especially not your mother."

Arya smiled. "I can understand that feeling." She paused before adding, "But what you said about planning…is that what you really think?"

Eragon shrugged. "It seems logical, doesn't it? We can't see the future. How can we plan for it?"

Arya smiled and just looked at him.

"What?" Eragon said bemusedly.

"For one so young you are very wise."

Eragon smiled. "Are you mocking me?"

Arya declined a response and instead leaned over and kissed him.


	3. Because I Love You

Arya sighed as she looked at the mounds of paperwork that awaited her attention. _Even though I'm_ _with child, I still have work to do_, she thought ruefully.

Slowly, reluctantly, she glanced over the first page. It contained a long, tiresome discourse on the amount of grain that lay in reserve in Ceris's storehouses. The overseer wanted her opinion on its distribution. Arya bit her lip pensively. Perhaps, if she hurried, she could send off her reply that day.

A familiar voice interrupted Arya's thoughts.

"Arya."

She jumped slightly. "Eragon, don't sneak up on me like that! You frightened me."

"You? Frightened?" Eragon responded mockingly. "I doubt that the warrior princess ever gets 'frightened'."

Arya rolled her eyes. "Just as well, announce yourself before you walk right up behind me."

Eragon walked towards her. "I did announce myself. I called your name."

Arya sighed. "You do not give up, do you?"

"Never," Eragon murmured mischievously, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "I see that you are still swamped with work."

Arya grumbled her assent.

"Don't you think," Eragon said teasingly, "that you could take just one small break? You know what they say. Pleasure before business."

"That's 'business before pleasure,' and, no, I cannot take one small break. I'll be here all night as it is. Now run along before I put you to work."

""I'm not a child, you know. Don't treat me like one," Eragon muttered, releasing her from his embrace.

Arya looked up to the ceiling. "Sometimes I wonder."

"That was cruel," Eragon quipped, slightly miffed at Arya's foul temper. "Even for you," he added.

Arya sighed. "I am tired, Eragon. Now leave me in peace so that Ican finish my work. Isn't vanir around to spar with you? Or Murtagh?"

Eragon's jaw clenched momentarily in anger before he muttered, "I'm not some child that you have to entertain, Arya. I can help you, if you'd like. Perhaps I could-"

"No, Eragon," Arya cut in, sounding frustrated. "I think that I shall be fine. It is still early yet. Perhaps, if I keep working I might finish at a decent hour. In the meantime, don't let me keep you. Why don't you find something to do?"

Eragon nodded and then slowly walked back out of the apartment.

:::::::::

Dejectedly, Eragon walked into the main courtyard. He had hoped to spend at least _some_ time with Arya. It seemed as if they had barely seen each other lately. He had been arranging to bring the Oromis and the young Riders to Ellesmera. She had been busy with politics, family, and friends. Yet, somehow, the awkwardness between them was caused by more than the fact that they had been apart.

Ever since finding out that she was pregnant, Arya had been…different, not very noticeably, yet, different in the small things-like her attitude. In the pat three months, Eragon had barely seen her smile. She seldom laughed and her eyes had lost the sparkle that they had held at the end of the war.

Instead, she was sullen most of the day…depressed even, though Eragon could not fathom why. He knew that, most likely, her being pregnant had something to do with it; but, if Eragon remembered correctly, Arya had once said that having a child was a great honor. Why then was she so unhappy?

For one thing, she treated him as though he were a child. And at night, she did not curl into his arms as had previously been her custom. Her sleep was troubled. She thought that he did not notice. But he did.

Every night, without fail, Arya tossed and turned, murmuring strange mixes of words, indiscernible to Eragon. Sometimes she would clench and unclench her hands or whimper. Once, she had even screamed.

Eragon's heart ached for her. He desperately wanted to reach out and reassure her. But he knew that Arya found such displays of emotion contemptible and that trying to help her would only push her away. So, he was forced to content himself with watching her silently…and hoping that she was all right.

The birds whistled and sang above him lending a bit of vibrancy to the otherwise tranquil surroundings. Eragon sighed and, not really having anything better to do, decided to take a walk.

:::::

"Where have you been?" Arya asked with a definite edge to her voice as Eragon came through the door.

Eragon closed the door and slumped against it in weariness. "Hmm?"

"I said, where have you been? I was worried about you. I couldn't reach you or Saphira with my mind."

"I got lost?"

"Lost?" Arya queried disbelievingly. "What do you mean 'lost'?"

"I was out walking in the forest and I got lost. All the trees looked the same…all of the animals." Eragon scratched his head. "I think I must have gone in circles the entire time."

"Why did you not contact me for help?" Arya asked, settling herself back on the divan.

"I didn't want to disturb you," Eragon said, throwing himself down in the seat next to Arya.

"Well you could have just contacted Saphira."

Eragon shook his head. "Not really."

Arya gave him a puzzled look.

"She was with Thorn," Eragon added darkly.

"Ah…" Arya murmured.

"So, did you finish your work?"

Arya nodded. "I finished an hour ago. I have been trying to reach you ever since. I thought perhaps you were angry."

"Angry?" Eragon queried.

"About earlier."

"Oh," Eragon murmured. "That…no I'm not angry. I understand you're tired. I only wish you would rest more. Might do you some good."

Arya shook her head. "I'll have plenty of time, and plenty of cause, to rest in the coming months. Right now, the best medicine for me is keeping busy."

Eragon shrugged. "Just a suggestion." An awkward silence stretched between them. Eragon twiddled his thumbs and looked out the window into the black night. Arya too stared pensively off into the distance.

Finally, Eragon took her hand in his and murmured, "Arya, I was wondering…that is, I wanted to ask you if there was anything I could do to help you. I know that you like to deal with your own problems, but I also know that sharing your pain with others can help alleviate it. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Arya looked slightly uncomfortable with Eragon's sudden display of concern, but she mastered herself enough to say, "Eragon, we have been through this before. You want me to share my every trouble with you. But you must understand that I am not accustomed to being open with others. I do not want you to spend your time worrying about my troubles. I am-"

"No," Eragon said softly but firmly. "You are not well."

"Pardon?"

Eragon looked up at her, determination burning in his eyes. "Every day, I look at you. And every day, I see someone who is smart and talented and strong and beautiful. Yet I also see someone who is afraid, afraid of feeling. I look at you, Arya, and I feel so powerless to help you. I love you, Arya; and seeing you suffer hurts me. You look so haunted. At night I see you tossing and turning and crying," he paused, voice building with emotion. "Damnit, Arya, we're going to have a child by this time next year. Can we not resolve this now? What is wrong?"

Arya looked into Eragon's eyes, her face hardening.

_How ironic_, Eragon mused, remembering the time long ago when he had asked a similar question.

Finally, Arya looked away. "Eragon please…This is none of your concern."

"None of my concern?" Eragon's eyes narrowed. "What is wrong with you? Of course it is my concern!! You are my concern! I…Arya, you're breaking my heart."

Arya sighed. "Why, Eragon? Why do you persist?"

Eragon reached out and gently cupped Arya's face in his palm, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Because I love you." And with that, he rose and went into the next room. A few minutes later, Arya heard the bathwater running.

She sighed.. The truth was simple: Gilead, her mother, her father…Faolin. When she closed her eyes she could see herself- at the mercy of Durza's whips and chains…fighting off Durza's soldiers…trying to avoid their touch…crying herself to sleep…wishing for death to take her.

She shuddered. Why had those horrible memories resurfaced?

Sighing again, Arya stood. She supposed she would have to explain to Eragon. He was in pain as well.

::::::

"Eragon," Arya murmured as he came out of the bathing room, toweling his hair and donning his robe.

Eragon looked at her, a mixture of love and anguish caught up in his brown eyes.

Arya was momentarily startled by how much older and more mature Eragon had become since their first meeting long ago. His face was thinner and his eyes more knowing. His stance also reflected a stronger and more confident individual.

"Yes?" Eragon asked.

Arya looked away from his eyes. "Perhaps we should talk."

"We should."

Simultaneously they both sat upon the bed. Eragon placed his hand over hers, reassuringly.

Arya looked into his eyes once more and in them seemed to find the strength to speak. "I apologize, Eragon, if my actions have led you to believe that I enjoy keeping things from you. On the contrary, the fact that I am able to come to you and speak freely is one of my favorite things about you. But, some things from my past are…difficult to dredge up. It is not that I do not want to tell you. Rather, I was raised to do things alone."

"You cannot do everything alone," Eragon said softly.

Arya nodded. "This is true. But that is how I have lived my entire life. Old habits are difficult to break. But I shall try now, wiol ono."

"That is all I ask."


End file.
